


when we're 92, the same as 17

by thatfangirlingfreak



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 'if you die I'll be so pissed' kinda vibes, Established Relationship, Existentialism, Growing Old Together, I simply cannot put junhao through angst, M/M, Old Married Couple, inspired by the caratland segment ofc, junhao soulmates, talking abt death and shit, this is super fluffy and cheesy tho dw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfangirlingfreak/pseuds/thatfangirlingfreak
Summary: No matter how much time passes, Jun and Minghao are still just as in love as ever.
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 14
Kudos: 56





	when we're 92, the same as 17

**Author's Note:**

> after the caratland segment abt svt as old men, I texted a small drabble of junhao growing old together to my sister, and slowly it became this...
> 
> title from 17 by Pink Sweat$ ft. Joshua and DK ofc

Minghao blinks awake.

Outside, the sun is already shining brightly, cars are speeding by, and the birds are chirping and singing like the morning was something to be happy about.

But none of these things are the reason why Minghao is awake.

With a sigh, he slaps at the lump next to him, “Hey.”

The only reply he gets is an even louder snore. Minghao rolls his eyes. Some things never change, he thinks. He’s been in charge of trying to wake the beast that is Wen Junhui since they were trainees.

“Jun,” he tries. “Junhui. Wen Junhui, you fucker, wake up.”

His husband lets out a grunt.

“If you don’t wake up in five seconds, I’m turning off the wifi for a week.”

As expected, Junhui opens his eyes immediately and slowly rolls over to face Minghao. “You’re evil.”

“Good morning,” Minghao flashes a false grin, still unhappy with being woken up. “Let’s go make breakfast.”

“What’s wrong with you? It’s only…” Jun trails off, turning back over to check the time, “10 in the morning! You know neither of us is functional if we wake up before noon.”

“Blame yourself for that,” he scoffs, reaching up to press his pointer finger against Jun’s nose. “You and your loud ass snoring. I don’t know why you won’t just go get your nose checked out, at least so we know you don’t have a condition. You never know until you go to the doctor. Just look at what happened to Seungkwan’s neighbor, she had no idea…”

Junhui smiles at the sight of Minghao’s worry lines deepening, and reaches up to take his hand away from his nose. He begins to play with the wedding band around Minghao’s ring finger, absentmindedly spinning it round and round as his husband rambles away.

“Hao,” Jun interrupts when he feels like he’s let him go on for too long, “I’m okay. Snoring is normal. I’m healthy, I’m fine, so stop worrying.”

Minghao sighs, deflating and settling back against Jun’s chest. “I can’t help it. I’m always worried about you.”

“Aw, how sweet. After all these years, you still care about me.”

“I know, it amazes me every day. But if I didn’t care about you, who would, you know?”

“Just for that, you get to make the bed by yourself today,” Jun quips, sitting up and getting out of bed. His bones crack as he stands and stretches.

Minghao grimaces at the noise. “See, this is why Jeonghan and I keep nagging you to go exercising with Cheol.”

Jun puts his feet into his slippers with a huff. “Exercising won’t change the fact that I’m old.”

He looks at their vanity mirror and runs a hand through his greying hair, squinting as he examines his appearance. Did he develop a new smile line? Maybe he should put on more of Minghao’s anti-wrinkle cream at night…

“No, but it might help you live longer than just sitting around gaming with Wonwoo.”

“Hao…”

“Hui,” Minghao retorts curtly. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” Jun replies, mouth screwed up in thought. “Look, how about we invite the kids over today? Playing with them counts as exercise, right?”

He considers it, then nods. “Alright, I’ll give Xiaoyu a call. If they’re busy, maybe we could go on a walk or something instead.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jun agrees, slipping off his pajamas to put on what Minghao calls his ‘grandpa attire.’ He usually broke it out only when he knew the grandkids were coming. “Do you want eggs?”

“I’ll just take a cup of tea.”

“I’m making you eggs and toast,” he insists, knowing that his husband will see him eating and beg for a bite. “Black tea?”

“Yes please,” Minghao whispers, phone already pressed to his ear. “Xiaoyu! How are you? Xingjie told me about your promotion at work!”

Jun listens to Minghao chat with their daughter-in-law as he finishes buttoning up his shirt, then heads downstairs to the kitchen.

Sunlight streams through the window overlooking their backyard, and Jun hums to himself as he rolls up his sleeves and washes the dishes they left in the sink from last night’s dinner. He’s had that one song Jihoon recommended to him stuck in his head all week, and it doesn’t seem to be going away any time soon.

Sighing, he picks up his phone and hits play on the song, just to get it out of his system.

When he listens to music sometimes, it reminds him of hours in practice rooms, panting as he watches Soonyoung and Chan try to reconfigure choreo. It reminds him of being backstage, taking restless naps between Wonwoo and Jeonghan. He’s transported back to recording studio sessions with Jihoon and Hansol, eating convenience store food with Jisoo and Seungcheol, joking around with Seungkwan and Seokmin during rehearsal, and letting Mingyu take random photos of him.

But most of all, music reminds him of Minghao.

He supposes it’s natural to find a piece of someone you love in everything, but for him, Minghao had been everywhere, in everything, since they were just two naive teenagers in Korea.

Any song he listens to from their idol past takes him back to those days of longing and frustration and doubt and high-strung nerves. It takes him back to feeling, well, seventeen again, and being in love with a boy who makes him feel more than he’d ever felt before.

Those songs hold a special place in his heart. But outside of their own music, he finds Minghao in almost anything—perhaps because he owes everything to music in general.

Without music, he never would have met the love of his life.

Junhui subconsciously smiles to himself at the thought, and begins to hum again.

Just as he’s put the kettle on and cracked the eggs into a pan, two arms snake around his waist.

“I guess the old man’s in a good mood today?” Minghao teases, resting his chin on Jun’s shoulder.

“How’d you want your eggs again? Burnt?”

The younger man pouts, cute as he’s always been. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” Junhui beams, turning and smacking a sloppy kiss against Minghao’s cheek.

“Gross, Jun,” he groans, wiping the saliva off his face. “That just reminded me of the first time we met.”

Jun lets out a groan of his own. “You’ll really never let me live that down, huh?”

“Never,” Minghao grins cheekily, lightly poking him in the side before moving to take care of the whistling kettle. “Oh, I have good news by the way.”

“We’re adopting another cat?”

“Hell no, Moonie and Starry are handfuls as is. Guess again.”

“Everyone in the group finally came around to my idea, and we’re gonna get drunk and go—”

“We’ve been rejecting that idea for ten years, Jun. It’s not gonna happen.”

“You don’t know that,” he counters, sliding the cooked eggs onto a plate for each of them. “Just tell me the news.”

Minghao takes a long sip of tea, smiling appreciatively when Junhui places the plate in front of him. “Thank you. Toast?”

“I got it. Give me a second, baobei,” he says, already stepping towards the toaster.

“Thank you,” he drawls out. “Anyways, the good news is that the kids are coming this afternoon."

Jun smiles, and Minghao can’t believe that, after all these years, something about that man’s little dimple and his sparkly, excited eyes still make him feel like he’s witnessing magic.

“Oh, good! I hope Chenle remembers to bring his basketball, last time I pretended I was the hoop and…”

As Jun chatters away about their grandchildren, Minghao gazes fondly at him, remembering all the times where he talked about their own son, Xingjie, just like this. When they were young and new parents, and everything was just so overwhelming and beautiful all at once.

He will always cherish those times, watching Junhui grow into being a father. Parenthood had been a difficult, wonderful journey for them to navigate together, and sometimes he truly does miss those times. He misses hearing Jun sing lullabies and tell stories to Xingjie at night, soothing Jun when he felt like he wasn’t being a good enough dad, watching him laugh and run around with their son.

Seeing him around their grandkids, Minghao was able to find glimpses of those times in Jun’s eyes, his voice, his grin, and it made him feel like the journey had been worth every second.

“…and Renjun would probably love it!” Jun finishes, placing two crisp pieces of toast on Minghao’s plate. “Here’s your toast, darling.”

He reaches across the table, and takes Jun’s hand in his.

“Thanks. I love you,” he says, hoping his husband can feel his sincerity.

Jun squeezes his hand tightly. “I love you, too. Now eat up, we need energy to play with the kids!”

Minghao rolls his eyes, fond smile still stuck on his face.

__

“Baobei! They’re here!”

Minghao sighs and sets down his paintbrush. He’s been trying to paint a landscape of Jun’s hometown for a few months now, and his progress has been slow. He’s hoping to finish it by the time the older man’s birthday rolls around, but he’s not sure if it’s possible. Keeping his husband occupied and away from him long enough to paint in secret was a difficult task sometimes.

“Coming!” he calls back, and tugs off his apron. Oh well, he’d try to work on it again tomorrow during Jun’s usual post-lunch snooze.

He steps out of his makeshift studio, which used to be Xingjie’s room, and hurries down the stairs to join Jun in the kitchen.

As per usual, Jun’s got the door swung wide open before Xiaoyu’s car is even fully in the driveway, waving to them with the biggest grin on his face. It makes Minghao grin, too.

“Yeye! Haohao!” Chenle cheers, dashing up to the house as soon as his mother opens the car door.

“I still hate how you got them to call me that,” Minghao sighs for the millionth time.

“Aw, come on Haohao,” Jun coos, pinching at his side. “It’s cute! Just like you.”

Chenle runs up and wraps his little arms around Jun’s legs. “Hi Yeye. I missed you!”

His husband laughs and scoops Chenle up into his arms. “I missed you too, Lele. How’s school going, hm?”

Chenle screws his face up to express his disgust, reminding Minghao so much of Junhui it hurts. “It sucks.”

“Mom says we can’t use the s word!” Renjun scolds, swatting at his little brother’s foot before giving both his grandfathers a shy smile. “Hi Yeye and Haohao.”

Minghao bends down to ruffle Renjun’s hair gently, even though the action strains his back a bit. “How are you, Renjunnie?”

“Good,” he giggles, just as his mother and his younger sister appear behind him.

Minghao stands and reaches out to hug Xiaoyu. “How are you, my dear?”

“We’re doing well,” she smiles. “Xingjie’s at work today, but he said he’d call tomorrow. He sends his love.”

“He’d better,” Jun jokes, bouncing Chenle up and down in his arms to make him laugh.

Xiaoyu smiles at the sight, then gives them an apologetic look. “I’d love to stick around, but this one here has ballet lessons,” she gestures to Mingzhu, who’s dressed in a pink tutu. “I thought she should at least greet her grandpas before we go.”

“Zhuzhu, you look so pretty!” Jun says cheerfully, reaching out to take her hand in his. “Give us a twirl!”

She obeys, laughing all the while. Minghao doesn’t know how, but Jun just had this magical ability to bring out joy from literally anyone he meets.

“So beautiful, Zhu!” Minghao claps, beaming proudly at his granddaughter.

“Are you following in Haohao’s footsteps, Mingzhu?” Junhui asks. “You wanna be the best dancer, just like your Haohao?”

“No, she wants to be just like Yeye,” Minghao says, straightening out the ruffle in Mingzhu’s tutu for her. “Everyone knows Yeye is the best dancer in the world…right, Zhuzhu?”

“As cute as this argument is every time,” Xiaoyu interjects, “we really have to head to practice. I’ll be back to pick the boys up around six? Does that work for you both?”

“Of course,” Minghao nods. “Have a fun practice, MIngzhu. We’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay, Haohao!” she beams up at him. “Bye bye!”

“Bye Zhu, bye Xiaoyu!” Jun calls out, using Chenle’s hand to wave them goodbye as the little girl skips down the driveway, her tiny hand clutched in Xiaoyu’s.

As soon as they drive away, Jun puts Chenle down and claps his hands together, and Minghao smiles knowingly. Time to watch his husband go into full Yeye mode.

“Alright, boys—are you two hungry? Or do you wanna play?” Jun asks with that wide, slanted grin of his, eyes sparkling the same as they did in their twenties. Even after all this time, nothing’s changed. Junhui, his happy, excitable, overly eager Junhui, has never changed.

Sure, there’s the greying hair and wrinkles and lines and more to worry about, but Junhui all the same.

“Haohao,” Jun calls out from the doorway that leads to their backyard. “How do you feel about a picnic?”

Minghao blinks. “A picnic?”

Jun flashes him a grin that he knows, after years of dealing with the man, will lead to something cheesy or flirtatious or so dumb. Or all of the above.

“Yeah, let’s have a picnic date while we watch the boys play. We never had lunch, after all.”

He hates how the smallest things Junhui said could still make his heart race. “Okay,” he smiles back.

“Yeye! Hurry up,” one of their grandsons yells from outside.

“You’ll have to make it though,” Jun says, shoving on one of his shoes. “Sorry, baobei. Yeye duties await.”

Minghao rolls his eyes, knowing the older man wasn’t apologetic about this in the slightest. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go have fun, I’ll be out there when I’m done.”

Jun strides over to him and plants a kiss against his cheek. “I love you. You’re the best husband ever.”

“Just go,” Minghao groans, shoving at Jun’s shoulder.

“I mean it. I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too. Now fucking go,” he giggles, trying to dodge Jun’s lips for a second time. “Stop it!”

Junhui pulls away from him, finally, and smiles down at him. “Okay. Try not to burn the house down! Or the food…”

“I will most definitely be burning your sandwich on purpose now,” he retorts. He has improved on his cooking skills over the years, even if Jun still has zero faith in him. At least he can make more than just various egg dishes now.

Jun shoots him an exaggerated wink, then promptly dashes out the door when he hears Renjun and Chenle start to shout.

Minghao smiles fondly to himself, shaking his head as he cracks open the fridge to see what he can put together for their mini picnic.

Jun was just…something else. Always has been.

As he shuts the fridge, Minghao glances at the photo they’ve had stuck there for years, held up by a magnet from some small country Xingjie visited.

It’s a photo of them at their twentieth anniversary party, and Jun’s kissing Minghao’s cake-covered face, dimple on full display and gleeful as ever. He was, after all, the one who shoved Minghao’s head face first into the giant cake Joshua purchased for the event.

When Minghao looks at this photo, he sometimes thinks about how young and naive they were at the time. How much uncertainty and life they had yet to understand or know.

But more than that, he sees how in love they were. How that love only continued to blossom over the years. And now, with their fiftieth anniversary on the horizon, he finds that he still falls in love with Junhui a little bit more every single day.

It’s cheesy, and he would never dare reveal that to Jun unless they were completely alone lest he risk being teased relentlessly, but he truly still feels just as in love as he did at seventeen.

Minghao hums to himself as he starts to prep their meal. It’s the song Jun’s been singing around the house all week, murmuring the lyrics under his breath; it was only a matter of time until he also got it stuck in his head.

He looks out the window to see Jun waving to him excitedly, like they didn’t just see each other seconds ago. He snorts, and waves back until his husband’s attention is dragged away by Chenle yanking on his pants leg.

Minghao giggles to himself at the sight and starts cutting ingredients for their meal, smiling all the while.

__

Junhui sprawls out against the picnic blanket as soon as Minghao sets it down underneath the lychee tree in their backyard.

“Lazy ass,” Minghao mutters stepping over his husband’s legs to put the basket of food on the edge of the blanket. “First you leave me to do all the cooking, and now this.”

Jun gives him a languid grin, arms propped beneath his head. “Aw, don’t be like that Xiao Haohao.”

He rolls his eyes, and purposefully drops an apple slice on Jun’s face. “I hate you.”

Jun reaches up and plucks the fruit off his forehead, then loudly munches down on it. “Mm, thanks!”

Shaking his head at the elder’s antics, Minghao takes out the two sandwiches he made and the last bottle of merlot they had in the cabinet. They’d have to grab some more on their next trip to town.

“Here’s your sandwich,” he says as he sits next to Jun’s head, crossing his legs. “I made it with love and care.”

Junhui narrows his eyes at him as he takes the sandwich. “Does that mean you spit in this?”

Minghao shrugs. “I guess you’ll find out,” he smiles slyly.

“Ugh,” Jun wrinkles his nose up in disgust. “Well, at least your saliva is pretty sweet, huh?”

Minghao feels his whole face turn hot. “Shut up,” he whines, recalling the interview where he made that stupid remark. “We were talking about how you spit on me the first time we met! I only said that to help move past the awkwardness.”

“I don’t know,” the older man purses his lips. “You seemed to think me spitting on you was pretty sexy…”

“Whatever, just eat your stupid sandwich. Idiot.”

Jun smiles to himself, clearly satisfied with Minghao’s irritation, and quietly bites at his food. He watches the latter take out two wine glasses from the picnic basket and pour red wine in them, stopping about halfway for each.

Carefully, Junhui props himself up on his elbows, and takes one of the glasses from the younger man. “Cheers?”

“Cheers,” Minghao replies, gently clinking his glass against his.

As Jun takes a sip, he never lets his eyes leave Minghao, for he loved to watch him during little moments like this. Most people probably don’t pay attention to the way someone else drinks, but Jun liked to watch the way Minghao’s thin fingers wrapped around the stem, his lips pressed against the rim of the glass, the column of his neck as he swallowed…it was a beautiful image. Of course, everything about Minghao was beautiful.

He was like breathing, living art. Even the smallest details about him were a sight to behold, and Jun still paid attention to them, despite having spent several decades with Minghao. He’d never tire of looking at the masterpiece he loved.

“Hui. Stop staring,” Minghao scolds, hitting at Jun’s shoulder and forcing him out of his daze.

“Sorry,” Jun smiles sheepishly. “I was just thinking…I need a map.”

“A map? What for? Why?”

“I got lost…in your eyes…”

Minghao blinks, then lets out a long, exasperated sigh. “Should’ve seen it coming.”

Jun laughs, grabbing onto Minghao’s knee as he tosses his head back gleefully. “I can’t believe you fell for that one!”

“I can’t believe I fell for _you_ ,” the younger retorts, teasing lilt in his voice.

Jun only continues to laugh, readjusting his position on the blanket until he lets his head plop into Minghao’s lap. “You adore me and all my cheesy pickup lines, what are you talking about?”

Minghao fails to suppress his smile. “Yeah, whatever,” he replies, hand automatically traveling to Junhui’s hair, running his fingers through the soft, thin, grey-brown strands.

They polish off the rest of their picnic like that, Jun resting against Minghao’s lap in peaceful silence—save for the distant shouts of Renjun and Chenle as they run about the hills in the yard, playing some pretend game.

“Remember when we had that much energy?” Junhui jokes, brushing off some stray crumbs he’d accidentally dropped onto Minghao’s leg.

“Oh, to be young again,” he muses around a sip of wine.

“I don’t think I’d trade anything to be that young again,” Jun says suddenly, all serious. “I would rather stay this old.”

“Really? Why?”

Jun cranes his neck to meet Minghao’s gaze. “Because when I was their age, I didn’t know you. I don’t want to go back to a time where I wasn’t in love with you.”

And Minghao swears part of him melts.

“Plus, being old is great. If I want to sleep all day, I can! God, I love retirement.”

Leave it to Jun to ruin a sweet moment. “Alright, old man.”

“You know I love you too, Xiao Haohao—“

“Yeye,” Chenle says, running up to his grandfathers excitedly. “Are you done? Renjun already found the magical sword!”

“Did he now? Well, I guess the dragon better go find where his treasure’s gone,” Jun says in a mock sinister tone, trying to push himself up.

Chenle hurries over and grabs at one of Jun’s arms to help him to his feet. “Hurry, Yeye!”

“I’ll be right there, Lele,” Jun says as the little boy dashes away again. He shoots Minghao an apologetic look. “Sorry, our date got cut short. You can have the rest of my wine, if you want.”

Minghao shakes his head, smiling fondly. “Yeye duties await.”

“Right,” Jun returns the smile. “I’ll be back as soon as the dragon is slain!”

Minghao laughs as Jun dramatically flaps his arms, acting as if he was flying away. Dumbass.

Eventually, Junhui disappears behind one of the hills in the distance, following wherever their grandsons had run off to.

Minghao finishes off the rest of the fruit and cheese platter he’d prepped, and gladly helps himself to the last of Jun’s wine. They really did need more merlot. Especially this brand, he thinks, reaching over to grab the empty bottle to look at the label. What even was this brand? Did Jun pick it out or—

“Haohao! Help!”

Renjun’s desperate shout pierces through the still air, and Minghao startles, scrambling to his feet immediately.

He breaks into a run, heart sinking with dread.

Minghao doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink when he reaches the other side of the hill, following the sounds of Renjun’s yells.

Junhui has collapsed against the grass, eyes shut. His chest isn’t moving. He’s not moving. Not moving. Jun.

“Junhui!” Minghao cries out, falling to his knees. He presses his hands to Jun’s chest, desperately crying out his name.

He doesn’t think anything, doesn’t know what to do except repeat to himself, over and over:

Please. Don’t leave.

__

They don’t speak about it.

Not even after Junhui startles awake to find a teary eyed Minghao staring down at him, sighing out in relief when the older man opens his eyes.

Not when Minghao and their grandsons lead him down the hill and into the house, not after Renjun asks in a small voice if Yeye was okay, not even when Xiaoyu returns to pick up the boys (although Jun is certain she and Minghao discuss the incident, speaking hushed voices and glancing at him every so often while Jun spins around with Mingzhu).

Even when Jun starts to cook dinner, Minghao disappears into his studio instead of staying in the kitchen to talk to him like usual. And when he comes back to eat, he remains quiet all throughout dinner, and it makes Jun fidget.

Wordlessly, they wash the dishes together, side by side like always. It makes Jun feel a little better, even if he felt like the tension in the air was tangible.

He passes Minghao the hand towel when he’s done drying the last plate, and watches him dry his delicate, bony hands until he can’t stand how suffocatingly silent their house is.

“Bed?” he asks, even though it’s pretty early in the evening.

“You go up first, I’ll be there in a second,” Minghao replies without sparing him a glance.

Jun frowns, tries to reach for his hand. “Hao…”  
  
The younger man sets the towel down on the counter, and turns away before Jun can grab hold of him. “It’ll only be a second, Jun. Just go.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, and heads upstairs without Minghao in tow.

He brushes his teeth and stares blankly at the empty vanity space next to him, wondering what he did wrong. It was just a fall, just an accident. He was only out for all of two minutes, and he didn’t even get seriously injured.

But he knows that Minghao would never see it the same way. Not his Minghao, his ‘you have to eat _something_ green, Junhui,’ ‘make sure to take your pills, Jun,’ caring and concerned Minghao.

Just as Jun finishes buttoning up his pajama top, in walks his husband, lips drawn into a frown and eyes glistening with something fearful. They get ready for bed in silence, then slide beneath the covers, Jun on the left and Minghao on the right, like always.

It’s only after Junhui reaches over and turns out the light that Minghao lets it all out, into the dark of the night.

He starts to cry.

Seeing Minghao cry was very rare, even for Jun. He could only recall a handful of times he’d witnessed the sight, and it broke his heart into shards every time he watched the love of his life release all his hurt.

“Oh, Haohao,” he whispers, pulling the younger man into his chest and feeling his shoulders shake with every sob he lets out. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Minghao cries, voice muffled by Jun’s body. “You died today.”

Junhui can’t help but let out a short laugh at that, reaching out to wipe away the tears spilling down Minghao’s cheeks. “It was two minutes, baobei. And look, I’m still here. Your Huihui’s still here.”

Minghao places one of his hands over Jun’s, and looks up at him with such a vulnerable gaze that Jun almost wants to wrap him in his arms and hold him there forever.

“But you were gone, and I thought…god, Jun,” he mutters. “I thought it was the end for a moment, I really did.”

“I know you did, love. But I’m okay, I swear.”

“Are you?” Minghao stares him down, switching from upset to angry in the blink of an eye. “This is what I mean, you never fucking take care of yourself, Junhui. You’re a fucking idiot. I mean seriously, would it kill you to just go exercise once a week? Even just going on walks with me and Jeonghan, something simple! But no, you’re just as stubborn as ever and think you’re invincible and—”

“Hao.”

“—you never eat enough vegetables! How you’ve stayed skinny all these years, I truly have no idea. And every time I tell you to go to the doctor, ‘no Minghao, I love suffering! I think I’ll just stick through the pain.’ This is how people end up getting sick from undiagnosed diseases, Junhui! You—”

“Hao!”

Minghao stops mid-rant, and looks at Jun again, worry lines as prominent as ever.

“I’m scared, Junnie,” he confesses in a hushed voice. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t…I can’t do that. I can’t.”

Jun pulls him back into his arms again, tracing figure eights onto Minghao’s back to soothe him. “You won’t lose me, Xiao Haohao. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you can’t promise that, Jun,” he says, voice wavering like he’s going to cry again. “What would I do without you?”

“Fill the house with paintings, probably,” he shrugs, and smiles when the younger man laughs.

“Seriously though,” he tilts his head up to look at Jun, “we’ve spent so much of our lives together…I can’t imagine a world without you.”

Junhui presses a kiss against Minghao’s forehead for that. “I can’t imagine a world without you either.”

Minghao sighs. “So where does that leave us? We’re just gonna have to die together, like some star-crossed lovers type of situation?”

Jun laughs loudly, tightens his hold around Minghao. “I guess so. Or who knows, maybe we’ll die one after the other, like in all those stories about old people soulmates.”

Minghao giggles at the thought, but schools his face into something more serious again. “Please don’t die on me yet. Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t, I promise. I’ll even eat a vegetable for you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Junhui, I’m serious.”

“I know. I know you’re worried,” Jun says. “I’ll book a doctor’s appointment this week. Just so we can be sure I’m okay. Okay?”

That seems to put Minghao at ease. “Okay,” he replies, relaxing in Jun’s arms again. “Okay.”

“I love you. I’m sorry for dying on you today.”

“Yeah, you better be,” Minghao snorts. “You have to live to at least ninety with me. That’s the deal.”

“Oh, is that the deal now?” Jun asks teasingly.

“Yep. You agreed to it when we made our vows, so,” he shrugs. “It’s too late to take it back.”

Junhui laughs. “Alright, baobei. Whatever you say.”

Silence falls between them again, but this time it’s comfortable, familiar. Just two lovers in the dark, Minghao playing with Jun’s fingers and Jun continuing to trace figure eights of different sizes into Minghao’s side.

“Junnie?” Minghao whispers after several moments pass.

“Hm?”

“I love you. I love you a lot. Like, so much. I’ve always loved you, even when you spat on me. I love your smile and your positivity and how you care for me. I love you just…a lot.”

Junhui smiles widely, and kisses Minghao, hard.

“I told you, I’m not going anywhere, Xiao Haohao. You don’t have to tell me that.”

“I know, but…I want to. I need you to know.”

“I already know,” Jun says sincerely, and places Minghao’s hand over where his heartbeat lies, just so he can really, truly feel it. “I’ve always known.”

Minghao smiles at the gesture, and gently presses his lips to Jun’s hand before resting his head against his chest, listening to his husband’s heart, letting his head rise and fall to the rhythm of Junhui’s breathing.

“Hao?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too. I love everything about you. Always have, always will.”

Minghao leans up and kisses him deeply, before they drift off to sleep.

Junhui feels Minghao fall asleep first, breathing going even and his movements stilling. He’s sleepy, but before he shuts his eyes, he looks down at the man on his chest and silently promises to do whatever it takes to make this last for as long as possible.

He knows nothing is forever.

Nothing is guaranteed, but he will love Minghao until his last breath, and he’s not ready for that yet.

(However he’s certain that, even if he does die, in his second life, Minghao will still be part of his story. He’ll still be the love of his life in any lifetime. They are each other’s futures and pasts, after all. Jun has no doubts about that.)

But he wants to try harder, so he can get as much time as he can in this life with his Minghao.

“I’m gonna try harder for you. I’m not leaving you Haohao,” he whispers in the dark. “I love you too much to do that.”

Junhui falls asleep as soon as the words escape his lips.

Minghao hears him just before he truly falls unconscious to the world, smiling to himself as he does.

They sleep like that, wrapped up in one another’s embrace, just as they did when they were seventeen and young and unknowingly falling in love.

Some things really never change.

**Author's Note:**

> ahh I hope this was alright - this is my first svt work!!
> 
> pls talk to me abt junhao or svt in general:  
> twt: [@mediumsuh](https://twitter.com/mediumsuh)  
> tumblr: [thatfangirlingfreak](https://thatfangirlingfreak.tumblr.com/)  
> curiouscat: [infinitywarmth](https://curiouscat.me/infinitywarmth)
> 
> I rlly need carat friends so pls don't hesitate to reach out <3


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